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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27956189">only time will tell</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theblackhall/pseuds/theblackhall'>theblackhall</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Pentagon (Korea Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cassettes, Death, Fluff and Angst, M/M, ceo wooseok, i don't know how to describe this anymore, mentions of illness, studying abroad, wooyu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:34:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,458</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27956189</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theblackhall/pseuds/theblackhall</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Where Wooseok receives seven tapes from a long time friend that takes him down a memory lane he's been avoiding for years.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Adachi Yuto/Jung Wooseok</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>34</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>only time will tell</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is an alternate story for my au time will tell on twt (@mcwooseok). this was my initial plot for time will tell, but i decided to make it angst-free instead. i still had to write this one tho. enjoy :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Being stuck at a desk the entire day was not Wooseok’s initial plan, yet there was nothing else he could have done to avoid it. The company had reached a peak where business was thriving, and as the CEO of the company—or more accurately, the owner’s son—he would have to put extra effort into handling the ropes.</p><p>What Wooseok wanted to become was not a rich man’s son who must oblige every single order he receives, sitting inside a room surrounded by glass walls, signing papers and cheques day and night. No, what he wanted to become was something <em>more</em>.</p><p>The world held many promising opportunities, and with them came the disappointment of not achieving the right ones. His colleagues probably thought that Wooseok was a lucky guy, having born into wealth and attending the finest schools only to have a job secured for him at the end of the day, running his father’s company.</p><p>Work was all he knew, until he’d buried everything in his head that was himself, leaving only the CEO façade behind for people to see.</p><p>“Is that the last of it?” Wooseok asked the employee who was standing in front of his desk, waiting for him to finish signing the stack of papers. <em>Yanan</em>, Wooseok thought. <em>I think that’s his name.</em></p><p>“Yes, sir,” replied Yanan as he took the stack of papers Wooseok had pushed towards him. He bowed before the younger man and turned to leave the room.</p><p>When the glass door was shut behind him, Wooseok sighed and ran his hands down his face in frustration. His tie had been loosened and his blazer was wrapped around his chair instead of his shoulders. He looked around the commodious space, his eyes scanning the darkening the sky outside and the empty hallway outside his room.</p><p>It seemed like everyone else had gone home as it was well past 7:30 p.m. on a Thursday, and Wooseok was still sitting there, as if waiting for Yanan to return with a new stack of papers.</p><p>The employee did return after several minutes, a coat slung over one forearm while he knocked on the glass door. Wooseok nodded at him and Yanan poked his head through the door with a small smile.</p><p>“I’m clocking out now, sir. Is there anything I can help you with before I leave?”</p><p>Wooseok tried to put on a decent smile on his face, one that hopefully showed Yanan a sense of gratitude.</p><p>“It’s alright. I’m leaving soon, anyway. Have a great night ahead.”</p><p>“Alright then, good night, sir,” Yanan said.</p><p>He closed the door behind him and walked away with Wooseok’s eyes trailing after him until he was out of sight. Another sigh then escaped the young man’s lips before he finally hoisted himself off the chair. Wooseok gathered his items, throwing his blazer on once more while he walked around the room, shutting the blinds.</p><p>The light from the hallway illuminated half of the room and Wooseok made his way towards the door, leaving without looking back. He let his feet carry him down the usual paths that he was fully accustomed to—down the empty cubicles, the elevator, and across the parking lot to his car. It was always the same routine.</p><p>During his drive home, Wooseok hummed softly to the music playing on the radio, trying to block out intrusive and unwanted thoughts. It was annoying, how much of the past his mind kept replaying. It’s not like he asked to think of those events, but he couldn’t help it.</p><p>As he hummed to a different song, his mind reminded him of the times he had spent in school, studying his ass off for tests and exams that he had no interest in. Sometimes he would remember how the snow felt like on his skin when he walked the streets of London, skipping an accounting class one winter a few years back, and the flowers that coloured the streets the following spring.</p><p>When Wooseok got back from finishing his degree overseas, he no longer knew his friends. He hadn’t contacted Jinho, Hyunggu, or even Shinwon, his best friends all throughout high school. It was like his father had dictated his life even when he was old enough to make his own decisions.</p><p>“You’ll study in London, just like your sister. And when you come back I’ll make you the company’s CEO. This is an order,” his father had said in the car one afternoon, an hour after Wooseok graduated high school.</p><p>He wasn’t given the chance to celebrate his graduation with his friends, and Shinwon’s face at the gates was the last of him that Wooseok had seen before driving away in his father’s car.</p><p>“Yes, dad,” he’d answered. Forever abiding, forever imprisoned.</p><p>Wooseok shook his head at the memories. He was at a red light, one elbow beside the window and his head in his hand. There were barely any vehicles on the road, and Wooseok just wanted to lie in bed until sleep consumed him.</p><p>The lights from the stores that aligned the streets glowed red and blue and yellow, bouncing off the shiny surface of the car and illuminating half of Wooseok’s face. He turned to face the blinding lights, squinting to get a better view of the stores’ names.</p><p>That’s when his eyes landed on a restaurant just several feet away. Its orange lights emitted a kind of warmth Wooseok felt like basking himself in, and the double doors that hid delicious food and therapeutic atmospheres seemed to beckon him to go inside, promising familiarity and perhaps… another trip down memory lane.</p><p>So Wooseok remembered.</p><p>He remembered the day he’d gone into that restaurant with Shinwon and Jinho, happy to buy themselves well-deserved meals after a week of practicing for their performance showcase. The three had written a song together and practiced every day in the music room after submitting their names for the line-up. All without Wooseok’s father’s knowledge of the matter.</p><p>He remembered when Jinho called his friends Hoetaek and Hongseok to help them prepare for their performance, since they had more experience than the three of them combined. It was the most fun that Wooseok had ever had in his entire life, and the good food that they’d bought themselves that day felt like a reward for hard work.</p><p>Inside that very restaurant, amidst grilled beef and fried chicken, was where Wooseok had first met Yuto.</p><p>Wooseok stared at the doors to the restaurant, letting the images play vividly in his head as he leaned his forehead against the window. He could feel the warmth of the fire crackling underneath the plate of sizzling beef, the smell wafting through the air filled with mixtures of his favorite spices.</p><p>The way Yuto smiled at him from across the room, eating with one friend as opposed to the duo sitting in front of Wooseok. The small conversation they exchanged outside the restaurant after Wooseok had waved at him when he got up to pay for the food. Even the way their fingertips touched when they handed each other their mobile phones, exchanging numbers while their friends teased them at the back.</p><p>Wooseok jumped in his seat, startled by the sudden honk of a vehicle behind him that snatched him back to reality. He looked up, finding that the traffic light had turned green and instantly accelerated down the road.</p><p><em>Yuto</em>, he thought, <em>I wonder how he’s doing now</em>.</p><p>At that moment, Wooseok had no idea that Yuto’s thoughts were constantly filled with him all these years they’d spent apart. He didn’t know just how much the man had missed him, the love of his life that had disappeared just as fast as he’d arrived, and nobody ever replaced Jung Wooseok in Adachi Yuto’s heart.</p><p>The CEO tried to remember the last time he’d seen Yuto, but the image came to him clearer than he expected. When his mind replayed Shinwon standing by the school gates, watching as Wooseok was taken away in his father’s car, another person appeared beside him. The person he had tried to erase from his thoughts finally reappeared, and the memories were no longer tainted with a fog that he’d created.</p><p>Yuto had stood there beside his best friend, the smile he always bore nowhere in sight when his glassy eyes trailed after the damned car. He had planned everything—a place for lunch, presents, even a movie night just for the two of them to celebrate Wooseok’s graduation.</p><p>As someone who’s homeschooled, Yuto didn’t get to experience the joy of putting on a robe and a cap, walking on a stage to receive a certificate in front of the entire school. He was more than thrilled when Wooseok invited him to attend his graduation ceremony, and Yuto clapped the loudest for him, unbothered by the stares he’d received.</p><p>Of course, as Wooseok reached his home, the thought of meeting Yuto again crossed his mind several times. He didn’t know how to reach out to him, and if he still used the same phone number, but he would try his best.</p><p>It was clear that Wooseok missed Yuto, as it was the main reason why he had buried their memories together so deeply inside his brain. He, too, didn’t find anyone to replace the man’s position in his heart all these years, and he didn’t even plan to.</p><p>Just as he turned the corner to park the car in the front yard, Wooseok’s eyes fell on the silhouette of a man sitting on the steps leading to his front door. He froze in his seat, slowly pressing down on the gas pedal so that the headlights reached the man and revealed his face.</p><p>Wooseok gasped, immediately putting the car into park as his eyes widened at the sight. The man stood up from the short flight of stairs, dusting the back of his pants whilst anticipating Wooseok’s arrival. He looked like he had been waiting there for a while, and Wooseok didn’t know what to feel about the man’s presence.</p><p>“Changgu?” cooed Wooseok in disbelief when he stepped out of the car.</p><p>He shut the door beside him and locked the car, all while his eyes remained fixated on none other than Yuto’s best friend. The very same friend who was eating with him at that restaurant years ago; the same friend who knew they were in love long before the two of them even realized it; the same friend who always told Wooseok the things that Yuto was too afraid to admit himself, just so Wooseok could understand his lover better—Yeo Changgu.</p><p>“Hi, Wooseok,” Changgu smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.</p><p>“What… What are you doing here? How did you find me?”</p><p>“It’s not that hard to find the address of a company CEO, you know. I hope I’m not intruding.”</p><p>Wooseok wasn’t so sure if he felt like Changgu was intruding, but then again, he didn’t have anyone at all. It was just him and the house, and nothing worth dying for awaited him inside except for a hot bath and a comfortable bed.</p><p>“How are you these days?” Changgu asked when Wooseok remained silent. “I’m guessing you just came home from work.”</p><p>“Yeah…” Wooseok replied, cutting himself out of a daze. “Yeah, I just got back from work.We should go inside, it’s pretty cold out here.”</p><p>It was an evening in October after all, and the cool autumn breeze counted days until it would turn into snow.</p><p>“That’s okay, I’m just here to give you something so it won’t take too much of your time.”</p><p>Wooseok raised an eyebrow when Changgu turned back to the steps, picking up what seemed like a shoe box. The light from the porch wasn’t all too bright, and Wooseok felt his heartbeat increase with every step that he took to get closer to his friend.</p><p>When Changgu turned to face him again, his eyes shone beneath the glow of a nearby lamppost, and for a split second Wooseok could see how red and puffy they were, as if he had been crying continuously.</p><p>“Here,” said Changgu when he presented Wooseok with a pale, yellow shoe box. “Giving you this box is my duty, and I’ve completed it. I guess whatever is inside will be for your eyes only, so I’ll leave you to it.”</p><p>“What…” Wooseok muttered under his breath. Changgu placed the box in his hands, and it didn’t weigh as heavy as it looked.</p><p>Glued onto the lid of the box was a small piece of paper labeled <em>For Wooseok</em> in familiar handwriting that Wooseok hadn’t seen in years. He instantly knew who the box was from, though he kind of already knew it from the moment he saw Changgu by his porch.</p><p>He looked at Changgu, who stared at him with an unreadable look on his face. He appeared sad and numb, unlike the person he had always been when Wooseok used to know him. The smile he had given him earlier was not the same either, as Changgu’s smile was always genuine and contagious, but now it felt like the world had fallen apart.</p><p>“You can open it tonight and choose to go with it or not,” said Changgu, “I’m not forcing you to do it. But if you do, then start tomorrow.”</p><p>Wooseok didn’t understand, but he nodded and thanked his old friend quietly, his voice a tone above a whisper. He traced the handwriting with his thumb, letting the roughness of the paper tickle his skin all while Changgu’s sorrowful eyes traced his face with pity.</p><p>He pursed his lips and placed a hand on Wooseok’s right shoulder, avoiding the latter’s gaze.</p><p>“I’m sorry,Wooseok.”</p><p>Changgu squeezed his shoulder once and walked away. Wooseok knew he would soon find out what his friend meant, so he waited on the steps, watching as Changgu got into his car that was parked by the curb. He lifted one hand to wave, but Changgu never turned back.</p><p>He only drove away, leaving Wooseok behind to stare after him just like the one memory that always played in his mind.</p><p>*</p><p>Scalding hot water slid down Wooseok’s back from the shower and the man didn’t even flinch.</p><p>For fifteen minutes, the tall man stood facing the wall and let the water run over every inch of his reddening skin until there was nothing in his mind but the steam fogging up the glass. He stepped out of the shower stall when he felt like his skin was going to melt to his bones and dried his hair with a small towel, the bigger one wrapped around his waist.</p><p>Changgu’s instructions kept repeating in his brain, even when he brushed his teeth and threw on some pajamas. Wooseok shook his head, finally giving in to his curiosity as he took the box that he’d left on the coffee table in the living room and brought it with him to the kitchen.</p><p>He microwaved a pack of frozen lasagna and sat on a stool at the kitchen island, inspecting the box in front of him.</p><p><em>I’m sorry</em>, Changgu’s words echoed in his ears. <em>What’s he sorry for?</em></p><p>Wooseok took the lid off the box and gently placed it aside. He almost burst into tears at the sight of a small, frog plush toy lying on top of whatever’s inside.</p><p>*</p><p>
  <em>“Which one do you want?” Wooseok asked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“The frog one! It’s so cute,” replied Yuto, pointing at the frog toy lying on a heap of other toys inside a claw machine. “Do you think it’s easy to retrieve?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wooseok hummed, tapping his forefinger on his chin as he pretended to be deep in thought.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I think I’ll need at least three tries.”</em>
</p><p><em>The smile on Yuto’s face when the frog toy was finally in his hands… God, it was worth the </em>six<em> tries that Wooseok took until he finally got to grab the damn, green frog.</em></p><p>
  <em>“Thank you, Seokie! You’re the best,” Yuto kissed his cheek.</em>
</p><p>*</p><p>Wooseok held the toy gently in his hands, his thumbs caressing the brown patches on the frog’s head. He didn’t know Yuto still kept it as it seemed like a decade had passed since that night at the claw machine. Maybe it <em>had</em> been a decade, and Wooseok was too lost in time to believe it.</p><p>Setting the frog aside, Wooseok rummaged through the contents of the box, finding fading polaroid photos of the two of them with dates written at the back of each one.</p><p>
  <em>December 10 2013 – first date</em>
</p><p>
  <em>January 31 2014 – wooseok turns 17</em>
</p><p>
  <em>September 6 2015 – sleep over at jinho’s</em>
</p><p>
  <em>February 3 2016 – preparing for wooseok’s graduation</em>
</p><p>The polaroids were spread out on the table one by one after every date and description had been read, but Wooseok found himself staring at one photo longer than the rest.</p><p>
  <em>February 18 2016 – wooseok’s graduation day</em>
</p><p>He turned the photo around after reading the description and his lips quivered at the sight of Yuto smiling wide at the camera, holding a red gift box tied with a golden bow. It was the present that Yuto had given him that morning when they met at his school, right before the ceremony started.</p><p><em>“I’m so proud of you,” </em>Yuto had said before kissing him softly. He’d given Wooseok the box and the latter had opened it with the biggest smile on his face, surprised to see his graduation cap inside. <em>JWS </em>was stitched onto the cap in mustard yellow yarn against a red background. Yuto knew well those were Wooseok’s favourite colours, and Wooseok was forever grateful for him.</p><p>Wooseok’s eyes began to brim with tears as the memories came flooding through his mind like a dam that had burst after holding on for too long. He laid out the photos and looked through the handwritten notes he’d given Yuto every time they went out. Yuto had kept every single one, and Wooseok felt like his heart could burst.</p><p>Then he finally got to the remaining contents of the box, and they weren’t anything that he’d expected.</p><p>Seven cassette tapes waited for him, sitting in each of their cases with different labels. At the end of the stack was a yellow cassette player with black headphones plugged into it, and Wooseok’s hands begged him to pick it up.</p><p><em>YUTO </em>was written with a black marker pen on the top right corner of the player, staring back at Wooseok who was too busy tracing the spines of the tapes with his forefinger. The plastic cases were cold against his skin, and he wondered if the content of these tapes would provide the warmth he seeked.</p><p>His eyes were too busy focusing on the many contents of the box that he almost missed a note folded in two, slipped behind the seven tapes. Wooseok slowly took it out and found the same familiar handwriting scribbled across the page.</p><p>
  <em>Dear Wooseok,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you are reading this, then Changgu has fulfilled his promise to me. I hope you’re doing well, especially as you’re so successful now, running your father’s company. Are you happy, Seokie? Am I even allowed to call you that after years of radio silence? I don’t know, but I do hope that you don’t mind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>These years I’ve spent apart from you, these years that have passed since the day you left, they haven’t been the best. But who am I to complain, when I still have the people I love around me, even when one is missing? These memories I keep of us together, I admit that I still go through them every day, wishing you were still in front of me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Time flies so fast when we’re together, Seokie. Without you, it decreases to a moderate speed, because as I thought that everything was moving too slow day by day, suddenly you’re back home. You’re the new face of your father’s company, and I’m proud of you. Even if it’s not what you wanted to do, even if it’s not your dream, you’re doing so well.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I will leave these memories in your hands now. By the time you receive this, it’s most probably late at night, so we can start tomorrow. There are seven tapes, one for each day starting tomorrow, and I hope you can embark on this journey through time for these upcoming seven days.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’ll see you at the end of our time, Wooseok.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>YUTO</em>
</p><p>*</p><p>A cup of steaming hot coffee was enough to serve as breakfast for Wooseok the next morning.</p><p>He was never a coffee person, but growing up changes people, and it certainly changed him. It was only eight-thirty and Wooseok was sitting at the kitchen island once again with the first tape in his hand and the headphones plugged in. Sure, he was supposed to be on his way to work, but that’s the perks of being a CEO—he could work from home if he wanted to.</p><p>Never in his life had he ever touched a cassette player, but it looked simple enough to use, so he placed the tape inside and pressed play. What met his ears was a static sound before a deep voice Wooseok hadn’t heard in years flowed through the earbuds, surprising him.</p><p>“Hello, Seokie,” said Yuto, and Wooseok swore he could see the smile on the former’s face as he said those two words. “Welcome to the first tape. It had been a pain to record on cassettes, but I like the authenticity, as you probably already know.”</p><p>Wooseok smiled. Yuto didn’t have to use the word ‘probably’, he really <em>did </em>know.</p><p>“With each tape that you go through, comes a place. I know these places haven’t seen even an inch of your shadow for the past few years, so I’ll introduce them to you again.” Yuto paused, then said, “Do you remember what we liked to do on Fridays, Seokie? I really miss Jinho hyung and his rambling every time he finds out that keep up our tradition.”</p><p>Wooseok’s hand froze, gripping the player tightly in his hand at the mention of an old friend. He closed his eyes and exhaled as Yuto continued to speak.</p><p>“You know where to go today, Seokie. Find our wall… and finish what we started.”</p><p>It took half an hour for Wooseok to drive down to the place that Yuto implied. It was a pier in the middle of a town in Seoul that only came alive at night. During the day, barely anyone walked the brown streets, and Wooseok sauntered down the stairs alone in jogging clothes.</p><p>The walls under the bridges were known for the graffitis that adorned them, and far near the last bridge at the pier, was Wooseok and Yuto’s wall. It was a five minute walk from his car to the wall, and the fresh morning air accompanied by the hustle and bustle of the city above trailed after him.</p><p>Wooseok scanned through the black and blue of spray paint, trying to find the exact spot he had abandoned the last Friday he’d stepped foot there. He set down the small paper bag he was carrying in one hand, filled with his own cans of spray paint.</p><p>He hadn’t used them in years, and buying them from a local art store that morning almost felt awkward.</p><p>“There you are,” he cooed to himself once his gaze landed on a familiar set of colours.</p><p>It was half of a camellia—Yuto’s favourite flower—painted on one side of the yellowing walls. Fortunately enough, the newer graffiti surrounding his abandoned masterpiece didn’t overlap and left it alone, as if whoever that painted those things expected him to come back and finish it.</p><p>Well, there he was, standing in front of the different shades of pink, waiting for them to bloom as opposed to the dried leaves scattered at the foot of the walls.</p><p><em>Finish what we started</em>, Yuto’s voice echoed in his ears.</p><p>So Wooseok took out one can of spray paint, uncapped it, and spent the next three hours standing under the bridge, painting the other side of the abandoned camellia with Yuto’s favourite shade of pink.</p><p>*</p><p>Wooseok had gone to the music room in his high school the very next day, playing his beloved melody on the piano that his fingers had not grazed in ages. Then he went to see a movie at the cinema on Sunday night, sitting alone in his and Yuto’s usual seats, four rows from the top.</p><p>He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone to the cinema, and suddenly he’d begun to wonder about the other little things in life he had once enjoyed, but long forgotten.</p><p>On Monday, he told Yanan to left the paperwork at his house and ventured off to a beach an hour away. He remembered the existence of a roadtrip playlist that he and Yuto had made, with help from Shinwon of course. That man’s taste in music was <em>impeccable</em>.</p><p>It had taken them a whole month to perfect it, and Wooseok blasted the playlist in his car on the way to the beach, pretending that Yuto and Shinwon were in the car with him.</p><p>The next day was spent at a museum where they had gone to for their two year anniversary. It was a greek mythology exhibition when they’d visited, and Wooseok was left to gape in awe when he noticed that the same exhibition had been brought back during his visit, with more paintings and sculptures in store.</p><p>When Wednesday arrived, it was the second last tape.</p><p>“Go to the place where we first met, Seokie,” said Yuto in the sixth tape. “Treat yourself with those black pepper beef you love so much. You ate three bowls of rice that night, if I remember it correctly.” Yuto laughed, and Wooseok found himself repeating the tape over and over that day until nightfall.</p><p>He parked his car on the side of the road and went into the restaurant with hesitant footsteps. The middle aged man behind the counter widened his eyes at the sight of the tall young man at the entrance, and Wooseok instantly felt like he was home.</p><p>“Wooseok?” said the man.</p><p>He owned that restaurant, and he always gave Wooseok free refills for his drinks. One time he even gave Wooseok extra bowls of rice because the boy ate so much every time he went there with his friends. Well, that was during his high school years. That Wednesday night, Wooseok sat at his usual table alone.</p><p>“It’s me,” Wooseok answered.</p><p>Sitting inside the restaurant, eating food he never knew he missed so much and talking to someone who had known him for who he really was, Wooseok almost let the tears fall. He looked at the table where Yuto and Changgu were sitting that day, when their eyes first met, and a smile slowly formed on his lips.</p><p>“Did he come here often?” asked Wooseok once he was done with his meal.</p><p>The man’s previously excited demeanor wilted like the autumn leaves flying in the wind outside. He looked down at his palms on the table, avoiding Wooseok’s anticipating gaze.</p><p>“He did at first, with your other friends too,” he finally said. “Then one by one, your friends stopped coming, and Yuto soon stopped showing up as well.”</p><p>“Do you know why?”</p><p>The man could only shake his head. He knew the story was not his to tell, and he had promised Yuto not to give away any information regarding his well-being to Wooseok.</p><p><em>“Just… prepare him his favourite meal when he comes,”</em> Yuto had said that one night he visited the restaurant after two whole years of staying away. He had looked so thin and fragile that the man shed tears in the break room once Yuto had left.</p><p>He had refused Yuto’s money and told him Wooseok’s meal would be on the house. It was the least he could do after all.</p><p>Wooseok went home that same night feeling empty despite his full stomach.</p><p>Before going to bed, he replayed the sixth tape again and again so he could hear Yuto’s laugh at the 30<sup>th</sup> second. He never failed to smile when the latter’s laugh filled his ears like the harmony of his favourite music piece.</p><p>Yuto’s smile, so contagious and beautiful, blooming on his face like the camellia flowers they went to pick one spring afternoon right after school. Wooseok’s memories of the time they’d spent growing up alongside one another became more vivid with each tape that he listened to.</p><p>By the time he reached the last tape, Thursday morning arrived, and sunlight streamed through the cracks in the blinds, shining on the box Wooseok had left on his nightstand.</p><p><em>I’ll see you at the end of our time, Wooseok</em>.</p><p>The CEO didn’t know what that meant. He listened to the last tape seconds after he woke up as Yuto’s voice had replaced his cup of coffee for the past seven days.</p><p>“Put on your best suit today, Seokie,” said Yuto. “Inside the casing of this tape is an address and it will lead you to me, and perhaps the others who have been waiting for you. I guess only time will tell now, don’t you think?”</p><p>Wooseok rummaged through his closet and did as Yuto had said—he put on his best suit. There was this giddy feeling bubbling in the pits of his stomach despite the haunting anticipation that resided in his chest. He skipped breakfast yet again, his emotions too out of place for him to even stomach a piece of bread.</p><p>He got into his car and turned on the GPS application on his phone, typing in the address he found in the casing of the tape before placing the phone on the dashboard. Beside it was none other than the green, frog toy that he had won for Yuto.</p><p>Wooseok had placed it on the dashboard of his car before going to the pier on Friday. Seeing it every time he got into his car gave him a sense of warmth.</p><p>The ride to the location took less than thirty minutes, and Wooseok had been in such a hurry that he didn’t even notice the name of the place when he had keyed in the address on his phone.</p><p>Once he reached his destination, though, Wooseok’s shoulders slumped.</p><p>It was a funeral home.</p><p>Thoughts began racing through his head at lightning speed as he slowly opened the door to exit the car. He loosened the tie around his neck, clearing his throat and making sure he looked presentable by checking his reflection in the window. His face had gone pale, but he couldn’t turn back and leave even if he wanted to.</p><p>The funeral home was opened and several other cars were parked near the entrance. It wasn’t far away from where Wooseok had parked his car, yet the walk to the front doors felt like an eternity had passed with every step he took.</p><p>When he finally reached the double mahogany doors, Wooseok was met with a man he knew all too well.</p><p>“Hello, Wooseok,” said Yuto’s father with a sad smile.</p><p>Wooseok didn’t know how to react, so he nodded at the man with pursed lips.</p><p>“They’re waiting for you.”</p><p>As those words left Yuto’s father’s mouth, Wooseok’s gaze landed on the back of three heads seated in the front row of wooden chairs. He knew exactly who they were, so he thanked the older man in front of him and made his way down the aisle without looking at the strangers standing around.</p><p>The closer he got to the front, the closer he was to the coffin.</p><p>Tears began blurring his vision with every step he took, the smile on Yuto’s face brighter than the sunlight streaming in through the windows, staring back at him on one side of the coffin. The framed portrait of Yuto that his family had chosen was perched up on a neat, wooden easel.</p><p>His face was full of colour, though in the coffin he slept with waning skin. Even the best efforts of the funeral home staffs couldn’t hide the pain Yuto had endured in the last few years of his life. Cancer was a cruel thing, and Wooseok had learned that from unintended eavesdropping.</p><p>Everywhere around him, people talked about how ill Yuto was and how painful he’d spent his last few days. None of them spoke of the beauty that the man was, or how he had lived his life to the fullest, making everyone around him feel loved.</p><p>No. They only talked about the sickness.</p><p>Wooseok slowly approached the coffin with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands clasped together against his chest. He didn’t know what to say save for the tears that began streaming down his face at the sight of a lifeless Yuto lying before him.</p><p>He really did look frail and thin, just as the restaurant owner had told him. Although the fake pink hues on his lips and cheeks covered the pale skin underneath, Wooseok could still see him.</p><p>His beautiful Yuto, someone he had tried to forget as his father dictated every aspect of his life, had remembered to give him a week full of life right as his own left his body. Wooseok wiped his tears with the back of his hand, his quiet sobs shaking his shoulders and causing strangers to look at him with pity.</p><p>“I’m here,” Wooseok said, his voice barely a whisper as he leaned over the coffin. His hands yearned to caress the cheeks that were once full of warmth but were then hollow shells.</p><p>He repeated the same sentence over and over again as if it was a mantra that would make Yuto’s eyes flutter open. Wooseok would do anything to see those brown eyes open again. He couldn’t bear to believe that he had obliged his father’s every word, abandoning the one true love he was lucky enough to receive.</p><p><em>You’re a fool</em>, Wooseok told himself. <em>How dare you left him when he needed you most?</em></p><p>“Wooseok,” a voice called from behind him. A hand squeezed his right shoulder seconds after, and Wooseok turned around, finding Ko Shinwon standing in front of him.</p><p>Shinwon didn’t have to say anything after that. He only opened his arms, wide enough for his friend to fall into, and Wooseok sobbed into his shoulder without a care for the onlookers.</p><p>Jinho and Changgu stood a foot behind, hesitating to give their long lost friend a hug as he might crumble more than he already did. So they let Shinwon hold Wooseok until his cries decreased and held his hands when he was seated between them.</p><p>Funerals are for the living, they say.</p><p>Wooseok definitely believed that.</p><p>He learned of Yuto’s battles that his mother told when she stood at the podium, her eyes bloodshot and face stricken with tears. She told the story of Yuto being diagnosed only a year after Wooseok was taken away from him, but he never became a different person. She said the cancer only went for his lungs and didn’t get to his head. Yuto remained strong until the end.</p><p>What she didn’t mention to the people who were gathered there was the fact that Wooseok had helped Yuto through it all.</p><p>Later, when the crowd slowly dispersed, Yuto’s mother gave Wooseok a long hug filled with unspoken gratitude.</p><p>“He never stopped thinking of you. No matter how many times we told him to reach out to you, he refused, saying he didn’t want you to see him for who he’d become. He wanted you to only remember him as who he was before you left, a healthy Yuto, still standing on his own,” his mother sobbed. Wooseok held her tightly as if she would break the moment he let go.</p><p>“But you got the tapes,” she said when she pulled back, rubbing Wooseok’s arms up and down in a way to comfort herself more than the young man. “He spent his last two weeks planning those tapes in…” her voice broke, and she paused to collect herself. “He planned those tapes in the hospital, and he finished making them two days before he…”</p><p>“It’s okay,” Wooseok interjected. He didn’t know if he was strong enough to hear more of her explanations. “It’s okay.”</p><p>When the funeral was over, Changgu, Jinho and Shinwon waited for Wooseok outside the home. They had a lot of catching up to do, but that could wait.</p><p>Wooseok only stood by the coffin, not wanting to let the staff close it, but he knew there’s nothing he could do. He fought against the need to run his fingers through Yuto’s hair, which he’d learned was a wig from Changgu. He knew Yuto would look just as beautiful with or without hair, and he didn’t bother to think about it.</p><p>“I’m here, Yuto,” he said, his voice hoarse from crying. Wooseok forced a smile. “I loved every single day that you led me to relive our adventures. The movie, the cinema, the beach… I even finished the camellia painting, you see?”</p><p>He reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out a polaroid picture the size of his palm. It was a picture of the camellia painting he had finished, taken from his old polaroid camera. He wiped a stray tear from his cheek and looked back at Yuto.</p><p>“I even signed our name at the bottom,” he chuckled sadly as he gently placed the polaroid inside Yuto’s blazer. He really liked the suit they had dressed Yuto in—a dark shade of blue, almost as dark as the night sky on rainy days. It was Yuto’s wish to be buried in a suit that wasn’t black.</p><p><em>He’d worn black most of his life,</em> his mother had said to Wooseok, <em>so he requested for this suit himself. It looks good on him.</em></p><p>Wooseok agreed. Yuto looked good in anything.</p><p>“Thank you for the memories you’ve given back to me, Yuto,” Wooseok sniffled, his eyes gleaming with fresh tears every time he blinked them away. “One thing you’re wrong though… This is not the end of our time.”</p><p>And it was true.</p><p>Wooseok knew he would see Yuto again one day, when he’s free from the shackles of this world that his father had built for him. He would see Yuto’s bright smile and hear his laugh again.</p><p>
  <em>“Our time has no ending.”</em>
</p><p>Those were the last words Wooseok told Yuto before he finally turned away and walked out of the home.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i'm sorry :))</p></blockquote></div></div>
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